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part 2
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Gretel cautiously moved forward, consciously loosening her too-tight grip on the crossbow. She rolled back her shoulders, aware that being too tense would actually slow her reaction time.
She could make out what looked like a clearing a hundred or so yards ahead of them. Whoever was shadowing them would more than likely attack when they didn't have the trees for cover.
On the positive side, it wasn't a witch. A witch would have already attacked, using the trees to their best advantage. No, their current stalkers were human. Not usually a problem for the siblings, but with Hansel injured and having to protect Mina, things could get a bit hairy.
The dark haired woman cursed under her breath. They didn't have time for this. The witches had made it plain that they would sacrifice the children in two days' time, during the blood moon. They didn't even know where the ritual would take place. So much time had been lost between being knocked unconscious by the Grand High Witch and trying to find her brother. On top of that, Hansel could succumb to the sugar sickness at any moment. If she didn't know for a fact that spells didn't work on them, she'd swear they were under a curse with the number of obstacles that had been placed in their path.
She strode out of the tree line, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the change in light. That's when she was blind-sided. A large fist slammed into her side, causing her to half curl in on herself. An open palmed blow to her arm sent the crossbow flying.
She heard Mina yelp in pain, and the crash of a body on the leaf-littered ground as someone shoved her to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mina's basket fall, the contents spilling out.
The heavy thump of a tree branch slamming into someone, and the wheeze of someone's breath leaving the body in a whoosh had her grin sharply. At least Hansel had not been caught unaware.
Gretel threw a punch at a thin, young man with greasy blond hair, skimming his cheek as he jerked his head to the side. He reached out and grasped her wrist, twisting until he had her arm behind her back at an awkward, painful angle. An older, grizzled man with salt and pepper hair - the one who'd disarmed her - grabbed her other arm, holding her between them.
A few feet away, she could see Mina held in a choke hold by a stocky long haired man with a pock-marked face. The woman gasped for breath, clawing ineffectually at the arm around her throat.
Gretel snarled as Sheriff Berringer's nasal voice could be heard. "Bloody bitch. You and your bastard of a brother have caused me no end of trouble."
His voice broke off with a pained yell as Hansel slammed the end of his walking stick into the man's face, re-shattering the nose.
Berringer fell, but Gretel's satisfaction was short lived when a fifth man, wiry with cold dark eyes, aimed for Hansel's injured hip and connected with a solid kick that sent her brother to the ground. Hansel bared his teeth but refused to cry out.
Face red with rage, Berringer scrambled to his feet and began kicking Hansel while uttering foul obscenities. The wiry individual joined the Sheriff to keep Hansel off his feet.
With an outraged scream Gretel struggled to free herself from the men who held her, desperate to get to her brother. She stomped on the blond's instep and rammed the back of her head into his face. He released her arm with a curse, hands automatically moving to cup his mouth where she'd knocked out a tooth or two. The older man, however, punched her in the stomach, making her lose her breath.
Mina had collapsed to the ground, dead or unconscious, she couldn't tell. The man who'd had her stepping over to join the two surrounding her brother.
She couldn't catch her breath. The older man had her by both upper arms while the other continued to hit her. But she couldn't take her eyes off her brother whose body moved limply like a rag doll with each kick that connected. "HANSEL!" she screamed.
As if in response to her cry, a roar sounded from the opposite side of the clearing. The trees shook and collapsed as a large green-skinned creature burst from the woods and barreled toward the group of humans at speeds faster than the bulky body would suggest.
The Troll scattered the men surrounding Hansel's prone form. Gretel held her breath in suppressed terror, but to her surprise the Troll's large feet didn't come anywhere near her brother. It grabbed the pock-marked man by his long hair and tore his head off as easily as a child plucks a rose from its stem.
Berringer scrambled backward, scuttling like a crab, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.
The wiry man with the cold dark eyes pulled his gun and open fired upon the beast. The Troll raised an arm before its face, deflecting the bullets.
One bullet whizzed past Gretel's cheek, lodging in the forehead of the older, grizzled man who'd had her by the arms, and he fell without a sound.
With a growl, the Troll leaped forward and grasped the gun, engulfing both weapon and the man's hand in one massive fist. With a savage twist and jerk, the Troll ripped the man's arm off at the shoulder. The wiry man screamed, his voice echoing in agony as the Troll proceeded to beat him to death with his own arm.
The Troll turned toward Berringer, who by this time had gained his feet and had taken to his heels as if the very devil himself were after him. With a grunt, the Troll threw the arm it held like a javelin, skewering the Sheriff like a bug with a pin. The man fell, and the arm flopped at the elbow as if patting his back in reassurance.
Breath wheezing and hissing like a tea kettle, the blond gave a high, near girlish shriek of terror and shoved Gretel into the path of the approaching monster.
Large hands grasped her and she sent a fervent apology to her brother for failing him.
The world spun on its axis, and she gasped as she landed on the grass between Hansel and Mina. The Troll turned its back to her, and she crawled over to her brother, jostling Mina's shoulder with her leg in her haste. Her fingers skimmed over her brother, glad to find a pulse, but terrified as to what additional injuries the Sheriff and his men had inflicted.
Eyes wide, she watched as the Troll lumbered after the last man, casually catching up to him. It stepped forward and grabbed the blond by the shoulder. Before the man could even scream, the Troll brought its fist down upon his head, bursting it like a melon and letting the body fall as it would.
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Mina woke abruptly, heart racing, eyes darting frantically at the rough shake. Sitting up, she felt her breath catch at the carnage around her. One of the ambushers lay near her, missing an arm, and brutally beaten to death. She gagged and emptied the contents of her stomach at the sight. Deliberately, she avoided looking too closely at the two other men who lay only a few feet away.
Gretel knelt beside her brother, trying to wake him, her dark gaze glassy with shock as she stared toward the tree line.
Suddenly not wanting to know what could unnerve the usually self-confident witch hunter, Mina quickly gathered her spilled herbs, roots, and flowers.
Hansel's body gave a lurch and convulsions shuddered through his frame. Gretel flung herself over him, trying to reduce the damage the seizure could cause as he thrashed about, limbs flailing.
Mina cursed and pawed through her basket, looking for a particular plant as she moved to sit by Hansel's head. She put the plant in her mouth and chewed, careful not to swallow any of the juice. Removing it, she pried open Hansel's mouth and placed the sodden mass beneath his tongue, then clamped his jaw shut. She stroked his throat encouraging him to swallow and praised Heaven when she felt him do so.
Gretel spoke not a word, just hung on with grim determination, as if her weight and presence alone would keep her brother with her. Brown eyes had darkened to black and remained fixed on his contorted features. Mina could see the agony reflected there.
Gradually, the shuddering slowed, then stopped. Hansel's breathing remained shallow, and his face was parchment pale beneath his tan. Mina removed the remains of the herb, tossing it onto the ground. She lifted an eye lid and examined his pupil before looking up at Gretel. "We need to get him to the healing waters, and quickly. I don't know if he can handle another fit in the condition he's in."
Gretel opened her mouth to speak, but both women froze as a large shadow fell over them. Mina looked up in fear as Gretel huddled protectively over Hansel.
The Troll stared down at them, brow furrowed, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. It shuffled its feet as amber brown eyes studied them.
For a long moment, no one moved.
With an impatient snort, the Troll stepped forward and brushed Gretel to the side; an oddly gentle motion for such a creature. It gathered Hansel up in its arms, ignoring her cry of distress. Arranging the man so his head rested on its shoulder, the Troll stalked off. "Come," its voice low and gravelly, but surprisingly pleasant. "Water this way."
The two women stared at one another in stunned incredulity.
Noticing the Troll was not waiting for them, Mina gave a startled squeak, grabbed her basket and hauled Gretel to her feet. "Come on."
Gretel, her expression fairly wild-eyed, scooped up her crossbow and darted after the Troll.
Mina followed, doing her best to ignore the bodies they passed; wondering why this creature had come to their rescue; terrified to discover what that purpose might be.
Despite the lumbering walk, the Troll had a ground-eating stride, and they arrived at the site much sooner than they would have managed on their own.
The creature lay Hansel down on the mossy bank, taking care not to bang his head, then lumbered around to where a small waterfall splashed merrily into the pool.
Looking between Hansel's battered form and the water, Mina made a decision. "It'll work better if he's immersed."
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Gretel dragged her gaze from the Troll who had pulled some bark off a tree and now scraped something from the walls behind the waterfall onto it.
Studying her brother, a wry grimace crossed her face. "Oh, he's not going to be happy with me." She began the laborious process of divesting Hansel of his weapons and clothing. "Not in the least."
"Why is that?" Mina's calm demeanor and confident movements reminded Gretel that the blonde assisted the town's doctor and had dealt with similar things in the past.
"Well..." she huffed a laugh, not that she felt anything about the situation funny, but she needed something to keep from breaking down into sobs at the moment. "For one, he's awfully shy. If he knew you were helping me undress him..." she let it trail off, grinning at the giggle she got in return.
They'd gotten the jacket, accoutrements, vest, and shirt off. Several scars crisscrossed his upper body; sadly, not all came from dealing with witches. Bruises bloomed over the right side of Hansel's chest. Several looked older, from his wild broom ride through the forest, but others were fresher, from the brutal kicks administered. Gretel ran her hands over his ribs, wincing as several felt unsound.
"Why else won't he be happy with you?" Mina's expression was somber, but Gretel appreciated the distraction.
"Last time we were in water that deep, we had gone after a serpent witch." Gretel focused on unlacing Hansel's boots, removing the daggers he'd slid into them. "Ugly thing. All bulgy eyes and warty skin. Looked more like a toad than a snake. She wasn't very graceful on land, but in the water?" Gretel shook her head. "Hansel would admit he's not a very strong swimmer, but when she transformed, she got her coils around him and pulled him under. He nearly drowned before he was able to cut her head off with his knife. He'll avoid deeper water if he can." She pulled off his trousers but left his undergarments, maybe he wouldn't murder her when he woke if she let him keep some of his dignity.
"We'll make sure we're both in there with him. He'll be fine." Mina's promise went a long way in reassuring her.
Gretel tensed as the Troll returned, thrusting the bark bowl into Mina's hands. She scrutinized the substance, then her expression brightened. "Oh, this is perfect. Thank you." It wandered off again, and she brought the bowl closer. "The minerals left behind by the waterfall can clean out wounds, seal them, and help them heal quicker."
Between the two of them, they covered every cut and bruise they could find. Gretel dashed tears from her eyes; they practically covered his body from head to toe with the paste.
Despite being shorter than most men; hell, she liked to tease him that even she was taller than he; Hansel had always seemed larger than life to Gretel. His broad shoulders, intense personality, and sheer presence dominated those around him, even when sitting in the corner of a tavern quietly drinking. But now, unconscious and injured, Gretel had to admit that her brother was not a large individual, especially when compared to other men. It disturbed her more than she cared to admit to see that vitality missing.
He remained unconscious, even as they slipped him into the pool.
The two women found a ledge to sit on that gave Gretel quick access to their weapons if they were needed. "Hook your arm across his chest." At Mina's questioning look, Gretel continued. "He doesn't float very well. It's another reason he doesn't like deep water." She leaned back against the rock ledge. "How long will we need to keep him in here?"
Mina shrugged. "A few hours? Maybe longer." She studied Hansel's slack face as she cupped her hand and poured water over his brow, careful not to submerge him. "The waters will take care of any physical injuries. What has me worried is the sugar sickness."
Gretel felt her face shutter as it did anytime an outsider commented on her brother's illness. "What about it?"
"It's odd." Mina hesitated, then her expression firmed. "I've dealt with those with the sugar sickness before, and I've seen Hansel have an attack. There's something odd about it."
"Are you saying we're lying?" Gretel tensed.
Mina tilted her head, gazing calmly back. "No. I'm saying there's something odd about it."
Gretel took a breath, trying to regain her temper. "Explain."
"Those with the sugar sickness, their symptoms appear gradually. First they feel real hungry and a bit weak. They get a headache and have some difficulty concentrating. Then it moves on to excessive sweating, cold and clammy skin, and increased weakness." She poured some more water over Hansel's brow. "After a while, they get confused and experience memory loss. They have difficulty walking and double vision. Then, if they haven't taken anything to correct the problem, it goes to muscle twitching, unconsciousness and convulsions. This can all take up to an hour." She frowned, but continued. "After they have their injection, or manage it with some fruit or even honey, the symptoms go away after ten to fifteen minutes. It takes a while to regain their strength and they usually complain of headaches." Mina stared directly at Gretel. "Your brother's symptoms went from feeling a bit weak, to having difficulty walking, to nearly passing out all within a few minutes. After his injection, it went away just as quickly, and he was perfectly fine again. That's not usual."
Her brow wrinkled in thought. "So, it's been accelerated?"
Mina nodded. "Yes! That sounds right." She continued to bathe Hansel's face.
Gretel could see the bruising begin to fade as the waters healed her brother and tension began to ease from her shoulders and back. "What would cause it to accelerate?"
"It's not natural, that's for sure. It would have to be magic based, somehow."
"Spells and curses don't work on us." Gretel knew that from experience. They had no idea what protected them, but thanked their lucky stars that they had that particular defense against witches.
"Maybe..." Mina felt out the words. "Maybe he wasn't cursed, but the candy was?"
Gretel swore luridly, ignoring the embarrassed flush Mina now sported. "Damn it." She splashed at the water with one hand. "So, what can we do?"
"We find a way to reverse the spell."
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Hansel slowly pulled away from the dark arms of oblivion which wanted to keep him in their embrace. Eyes closed, he used his other senses to try and figure out where he was before alerting anyone nearby that he'd woken. By the feel of moss beneath him, and the gentle splash of water nearby, he knew he was no longer in the clearing where they'd been attacked. He cautiously moved his limbs, assessing any injuries. Considering the last day's activities, he felt surprisingly well. Instead of the pain of broken bones, pulled muscles, bruises and lacerations, he merely felt an all-over ache, as if he'd over-extended himself in a hunt. 'I guess they really are healing waters.'
His head felt stuffed with wool, and the gentle murmurs of his sister and Mina sounded far away. A dull throb behind his eyes beat in time with his heart. His mouth was dry, and an odd aftertaste coated his tongue. He mentally sighed, recognizing the after effects of a fit caused by the sugar sickness and wished, not for the first time, that he didn't have this weakness. He hated being a burden on his sister. Despite her protests to the contrary, he knew how much of a problem the sugar sickness caused to their lives, how much money got funneled to supply his medicine which could go toward a better use, and the number of close calls they'd had when he'd had a fit during a hunt. During his darker moments, he wished he'd died in the Gingerbread cottage rather than make Gretel have to deal with his illness. Then he'd feel guilty for the selfish thought. How could he even think about leaving his sister all alone?
He felt a hand on his cheek and blinked open his eyes, catching the surprise and deep-seated worry in Gretel's gaze. Her eyes were nearly black in her concern. He spotted Mina over her shoulder, the blonde's gaze more serene.
"Hey." His voice rasped in his throat, and he coughed to clear it, marveling that nothing hurt or shifted as he did so.
Two sets of hands helped him sit up, but a third set, large, green tinged with broken nails holding a piece of bark filled with water, caused him to pause. He tensed as adrenalin flowed through his veins prepping his body for fight or flight. His gaze rose to meet those of a Troll. The creature gazed back, golden brown eyes calm and expectant.
"It's okay," Mina reassured. "Edward just wants to help."
Gretel subtly squeezed his shoulder twice, their signal of agreement, and he relaxed, trusting his sister's judgment as she would his if the situation were reversed. Drinking, he blinked in surprise at the cold bite of the water. It soothed his throat and washed away the medicinal taste of herbs.
Finished, they helped him lean back, propped against a mossy rock. He frowned at his near nude state and scowled at his sister.
She had the audacity to grin at him, her eyes lightening in color as the worry lessened. "Had to submerge you in the healing pool. Don't worry, your virtue is still safe." The smile dropped and she continued more seriously. "The muscles in your hip had torn. You had five broken ribs, internal bleeding, a skull fracture, lots of cuts and bruises, and you had three fits along the way. Only one caused by the sugar sickness."
To anyone else, her tone sounded clipped, perhaps even cold. Mina shot her an incredulous glare, but Hansel merely smirked, hearing the underlying concern. He lay a hand on Gretel's leg. "Oh. Is that all?"
A quicksilver smile flashed across her face, and she covered his hand with her own. "I thought I'd lose you. Don't scare me like that, again."
"Never my intention." He searched her face, breathing a silent sigh of relief when he found no recriminations within her eyes.
She sighed and squeezed his hand. "I know." She studied him in turn. "How do you feel?"
Though both siblings refused to show weakness in front of others, they never lied or sidestepped the question when the other asked. So, though Hansel cast a cautious glance at Mina and 'Edward', he answered truthfully. "I ache, and my head feels stuffed with wool. But considering the alternatives, terrific."
Mina reached out a hand to brush his face, and he subconsciously flinched. Other than his sister, people rarely touched him; and even fewer did so without intent to harm. The few women who attempted to get close, if they could overcome the fear that his profession brought up or get past his sister, tended to be put off by his shyness. The often cruel rebuffs caused him to draw tighter in upon himself, becoming a self-feeding circle.
Mina leaned back, giving him his space, though he noted with a tinge of surprise that her expression appeared more saddened than offended. "The fuzziness should pass once you're back on your feet and moving, as should the aches. The healing waters and medicines we gave you worked well."
He looked up, frowning at the overcast sky. "How long was I out?"
The two women exchanged glances, and Hansel felt the frown deepen. "Gretel?" he sat up, alarmed.
"You were pretty bad off. It's midmorning."
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Gretel cringed at the look that crossed her brother's face.
To anyone else, with drawn brows and lips pressed in a tight line, he looked severe, even angry, but she could see the expression that flashed in his eyes, the self-loathing turning them more gray than blue.
Not for the first time, she cursed their father, and not just for his abandonment. No, she cursed him for the heavy burden he'd placed on the thin shoulders of a not-quite nine year old boy. "Watch out for you sister," he'd said. If only he'd said, "Watch out for each other."
Hansel, being the older of the twins, as well as the boy, had taken the words to heart. While growing up, Hansel did everything he could to follow that directive, and when he couldn't …
Gretel had first seen that look when his refusal to eat had caused the Gingerbread Witch to threaten her life. She saw it again when Gretel had to stab the witch to keep her from killing Hansel. Anytime the sugar sickness struck, or an injury kept him for doing his job – and his job, he said, was to protect her – she'd see the same expression she saw now appear in his eyes.
It had taken her a few years to identify the emotion, and by then it was too late to change. It had become as much a part of him as the color of his eyes. Eyes that changed with his emotions, letting her know what he felt, even when he couldn't express it out loud. He hated when his own weakness meant that some harm could befall her. Gretel knew how much he strove to protect her. She never begrudged him the time needed to heal, nor belittled him when he got injured. She did everything in her power to prove to him that he was not a burden or a bother. She loved him.
She grasped his hand tightly between her own. "I'm fine. We're fine. And we still have time to save the children." As she used his eye color to gauge his feelings, she knew he did the same with her own. She stared at him, letting her determination and conviction show.
When the gray began to recede, she knew she'd caught his attention. "How?"
"The blood moon's tomorrow. We get our weapons and hunt the bitches down."
They'd need to iron out the details, of course, but for now the statement did its job. The self-hatred left Hansel's eyes. She knew he'd have her back.
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"Which way back to town?" Hansel asked as he pulled on his clothing, stomped back into his boots, and slung his weapons across his back and around his waist once more. If he had difficulty meeting Mina's eyes, well... she wouldn't say anything about it.
"That way." Edward pointed toward the east.
Gretel shot a look at Mina, who nodded in confirmation
Hansel grinned, though his eyes remained thoughtful as he studied the Troll, trying to understand the creature and its motivation for helping them. "Well then, let's get this show on the road."
The quartet started off with Edward on point. The two siblings walked side by side, keeping a wary eye on their surroundings as well as the Troll. Mina trailed behind. The weather warm, the sun high in the sky, she figured it would take a few hours to return to town.
Her mind awhirl, her thoughts chasing each other down dead-ends. She knew she should tell them the truth. She could help them so much if she could come clean with them, but their possible reactions terrified her. Hansel had told her that he felt the only good witch was a dead witch. And although (luckily for her) Gretel required more evidence than just an accusation before allowing someone to burn to death, both siblings held such rage against witches she feared they'd never allow her to explain. The idea that all magic was evil caused those who used magic for good to keep their abilities to themselves for fear of persecution.
She didn't blame them for their prejudice. From the stories she heard, they had only ever encountered dark witches. Those who took delight in destruction. Those who seemed drawn to try to kill them. Something like that would color your perceptions.
Magic was neither good nor bad. It simply was. Like the air, it flowed invisibly through the world. Though its use did lay a stamp upon the soul for those with the Gift to access it, whether a witch showed any corruption depended upon the intent of their spell casting.
Therefore, dark witches were easier to spot by both appearance and deed.
She brushed a branch out of the way, her gaze landing on Edward. She'd never seen a Troll before, and until now, had thought them little more than mildly intelligent beasts that witches sent out on errands or used as a type of body guard.
Trolls serve witches, but it had not been her cry that summoned its help.
Her gaze drifted over Hansel and Gretel. She'd heard the stories: how spells and curses from the witches they fought had no effect upon them. Gretel had even admitted to such.
They weren't totally immune, though, or the healing waters would not have worked.
She worried her inner cheek with her teeth. People liked to gossip, and the strange and unusual were quality fare; over the years she'd heard rumors about the siblings, and the villagers had taken great delight in dissecting their lives and taking sides.
A small group of villagers believed their immunity meant that they, too, had made a pact with dark forces. 'Like won't affect like,' they enjoyed repeating.
Others believed that immunity meant that the siblings had angels watching over them as they did God's work ridding the world of such evils.
Mina didn't know about angels, but when she looked at the two of them from the corner of her eye, actively looking at their auras, she could see the protective magic that swirled and ebbed within. Someone much more powerful than she had cast the spells that kept any magic of ill intent from harming them.
Not sure how to tell them, she remained silent.
The woods thinned and Edward paused, pointing ahead. "Rest here awhile. Safe."
Looking forward, they saw they'd come across an abandoned house that stood forlornly in the center of the clearing. A barn shed had fallen victim to the elements, struck by lightning at some point and half destroyed, its doors hanging open by a single hinge. What looked like a rough grave with a large rock as a headstone lay between the two buildings. The garden to the left of the house lay overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. Garden implements lay scattered about, rusty with disuse. The air hung close and heavy around them.
Gretel cautiously climbed the porch, testing the wood to ensure they held her weight, and peered in through a window.
Mina watched as Hansel crouched and picked up a hand rake. He turned it slowly in his hands and murmured, "Now why would someone leave perfectly good tools just laying around?" He looked about, eyes intent. "Looks like the people just up and left everything." He cocked his head, brow furrowed. "So, even if they didn't take things with them, for whatever reason, why hasn't someone else come to scavenge?"
"Illness?" Mina offered. "Maybe people were afraid they might contract a disease if they were in the area?"
Hansel had turned, his attention caught by a pole that stood near the right hand corner of the house - its position jarring and out of place. "I'm thinking more superstition than illness." With a sudden chill down her spine, Mina noticed that the base of the pole looked charred.
Gretel had stepped into the house after Edward. Hansel quickly straightened, rake still in hand, and moved to follow.
Mina stood still, the wind through the trees a mournful cry that echoed her feelings. Things were about to change; she could feel it in her bones.
A loud crash, along with Edward's alarmed shout and a startled and pained yelp from the siblings, had her racing into the house.
Edward stood near the edge of a large hole in the floorboards, looking down with a worried expression. Dust puffed upward from the opening, disturbed after who knew how long. "Hansel?" The blonde moved to the edge, her motions careful lest she fall in, as well.
Beneath the house lay a small natural cavern-like area. Peripherally, she noticed candles lining the walls with books, scrolls, bottles, and jars on hand-hewn shelves. Her focus, however, stayed on the two motionless figures below her. Hansel lay on his back, unconscious. Gretel lay draped over him, having landed on her brother.
Before she could look for a way down, Edward picked her up and lowered her into the cavern. She stifled a startled gasp, but easily found her footing. "Thank you."
"Help them. Smell blood."
Mina knelt beside the siblings. Gretel had a gash along her temple, having hit her head at some point. Mina ran her hands down the woman's spine, breathing a sigh of relief that everything felt intact. Carefully, she rolled Gretel off her brother, laying her on her side so she wouldn't choke if the head injury caused her to vomit.
Hansel was out cold. That worried her. He'd spent far too long unconscious over the past day-and-a-half. However, it might have been a blessing in disguise. The three metal prongs of the hand rake had pierced his lower abdomen, his sister's weight sending the dull points through his leather vest and into his flesh.
Mina pulled the gardening tool from his side wincing at the pain she caused. Hansel cried out, but didn't wake.
Tearing a section of her under-dress, Mina cleaned the wounds as well as she could, despairing at the fetid scent that emanated from them. The bowels had been punctured. The herbs she had on hand were not sufficient this time to heal him, and the healing waters were too far away. There wasn't anything she could do. The wounds would soon go septic and Hansel would slowly die in agony.
She sobbed, letting her gaze wander in desperate hope before they landed on a book lying on a nearby shelf. The symbol upon the cover caught her eye and she held her breath, barely daring to hope. Could it be...?
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Gretel slowly came to her senses.
She remembered entering the house and feeling an odd sense of connection. Weather and animals had done a number on the place, but she could see that the rooms were still fully furnished. The various knickknacks and other accoutrements that a family naturally gathered lay scattered about. Idly examining the main room, she moved toward the back wall where the kitchen stood; the boards beneath her feet creaked ominously. Edward stood in a corner, watching her, the gentleness so at odds with the rest of his appearance.
Hansel entered; his movements sharp and quick. Something outside had troubled him.
Gretel spotted a mark on the wall and motioned him over. "What do you make of this?"
Her brother drew near. With a sickening crack, the floor opened up beneath them, swallowing them. She felt Hansel reach for her, twisting in midair like a cat to take the brunt of the landing.
Hansel hit the ground first, his head cracking against the stone; she felt his breath leave him in a whoosh as she landed on him. A hard object between them slammed sharply into her ribs. Hansel gave a harsh cry of pain, and the world went dark as her own head met the ground.
Now, she lay on her side, her body aching from the landing. As if from far away, she could hear a soft murmured voice coupled with a rustling sound.
Gretel blinked open her eyes, her vision wavering. The small underground cavern looked hewn from the rock. Candle light bathed the room in a warm glow. The fresh scent of herbs calmed her even as she wondered were Hansel was.
Biting her lip to suppress a groan and keep from being sick, she propped herself up on her elbows, then froze in shock.
Hansel lay on his back, his vest and shirt hiked up to expose his abdomen. She could see three puncture wounds gaping like angry red mouths to the left of his navel. Beside him, on the ground nearest her, lay a small hand rake, a three-pronged tool used to break up clods of dirt in preparation for sowing seeds. The tips gleamed a dull red, and Gretel swallowed hard, one hand lightly rubbing at her ribs in remembrance.
Mina knelt on the other side of her brother with a large book lying in her lap. She read quietly from the book, one hand keeping her place, her other adding items to a bottle at regular intervals. The liquid fizzed and changed colors with each addition. Mina half shouted a last phrase, and the bottle's contents shimmered a pale blue.
Gretel felt rage and terror course through her. This woman they'd protected and trusted was a witch, and now she was trying to put some sort of spell on her brother. The betrayal felt bitter on her tongue. She pushed herself to her hands and knees, intent on stopping her.
Mina poured the contents over the injury. The liquid quickly absorbed into the skin. Mina spoke a phrase, the tone imploring, and made a pulling motion with her hand.
Gretel felt herself stiffen in shock as a glow surrounded Hansel's body, and her brother's back arched as he gasped. A witch's spell worked; how could this be possible? Had Mina somehow managed to find a way around their defenses?
She shuddered as a black oily-looking substance flowed from the wounds, fading like smoke on the wind. More and more smoke poured out. At first fast and thick, then dwindling to a trickle, then nothing. The tears in Hansel's skin closed, sealed, and turned to the silvered color of an old scar.
Mina leaned back on her heels, drawn and wan.
Gretel noticed Hansel's blue-gray eyes focused intently on Mina. She shifted closer, caught Hansel's attention, and easily read the wealth of emotions her brother normally never let anyone see: confusion, wariness, caution, and a small hint of awe.
"How...?" she breathed
"Intent," Mina responded, her voice low and even, but Gretel detected a thin strand of fear threaded through the tone. She refused to look at them and her gaze remained focused on the book in her lap. "You're both protected from spells and curses of ill-intent. But since I was healing..." she trailed off.
"I checked you. You were clean." Hansel's voice drifted on the air, his confusion clear.
"Magic only corrupts the body if used for evil intent." This time she did look up, eyes begging for understanding. "There are light witches in the world."
After a long drawn out moment, Hansel nodded, one hand grasping hers in a firm grip. "Thank you."
She nodded back, her smile a bit watery.
He sighed, then struggled into a sitting position. Gretel crawled over, tossing the hand rake to the side with a shudder. She ran a tentative hand over the wound site. "You just can't catch a break, can you?" she tried to tease, still shaken.
"Quite the opposite, actually. I've been damned lucky today."
Gretel nodded and wrapped her hand around his. Trying to distance herself, she looked around the room, a faint frown upon her face. "This isn't the usual witch's lair," she noted. The area, despite the fallen lumber and dust of disuse, looked meticulously clean and organized. No foul trophies littered the area. Nothing 'felt' dark.
"Reminds me of Gran Abbot's kitchen," Hansel murmured.
Gretel could only agree. After escaping the Gingerbread Witch, the siblings had tried to put as much distance between themselves and the evil place as they could, eventually stumbling upon another village. Gran Abbot was the village herbalist and midwife. An aging widow with no children of her own, she took the orphans in. It was she who diagnosed Hansel's sugar sickness, and she who created the recipe they mixed for the injections Hansel used to ward off the symptoms. They'd stayed with her for two years before she died in her sleep one night. Unwilling to be orphaned a third time, the siblings kept to themselves from then on.
They rose to their feet. Mina kept a careful distance from the two siblings. "How do you feel?"
"Good." Hansel paused, his attention turned inward, and his voice had an odd timbre to it. "Real good. I haven't felt this good since..." he trailed off, eyes flying to meet Mina's.
The blonde bit her bottom lip, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I found a spell in the book that removed curses and combined it with the healing potion. That's what the black smoke was."
Gretel felt her jaw drop, remembering their earlier conversation. "You mean...?"
She nodded, "If it worked like it should, you won't have the sugar sickness anymore."
Hansel blinked, then blinked again. "It was a curse?" He tilted his head to study her. "How do you know?"
"Your symptoms came too quickly and left just as quickly once you took your injection." She fidgeted again and shyly handed over his medicine satchel. "I noticed that most of the ingredients were herbs I've seen used to counter minor curses."
"So, Gran Abbot was a witch, too?" Hansel asked quietly.
Gretel sighed, "I don't know what to think anymore. It's not like she could have told us it was a curse. She would have had to prove that she was a witch, or we would never have listened."
Hansel snorted. "Tell the truth, Gretel. We were so shell-shocked, we probably would have attacked her on the spot if she had mentioned being a witch.
Gretel nodded. "Why didn't she cancel it, why just counter?"
Mina gracefully shrugged. "She might not have been powerful enough or might not have had access to the spell."
"Anything in there that can help us with our current problem?" Hansel asked with a wave at the book in her arms.
Mina nodded, eyes bright at the thought of being asked to help. "Most are too powerful for me to cast, but there's a blessing potion I can make that would keep a witch from affecting a weapon aimed at them."
"Too powerful?" Gretel blinked.
Mina caressed the book with a reverential air. "The one who owned this book was a Grand White Witch. Very powerful, but very ethical in their dealings with non-magicals."
"Gather what you think you'll need, Mina," Gretel suggested. "Then let's get back to town."
With Edward's help, they crawled out of the cavern. The Troll and Mina left them alone to try and regain their equilibrium in privacy.
"Gretel. You're going to want to see this." Hansel had gone up the steps to an alcove off the main room that still held two child-sized beds with a night stand between them. As she stopped beside him, he handed her a small ragdoll. It was old, the colors faded with time, but that same sense of connection rose in her. "I think this was our old house," he kept his voice low. She must have looked skeptical because he pointed at the wall along the left hand side where a childish hand had drawn three figures; a boy, a girl, and what might have been a dog.
"You've gotten better over the years," she murmured back; images of her brother grinning in glee as he'd drawn the picture, their dad's mild exasperation, and their mother's fond expression nearly overwhelmed her. She spun to stare wide-eyed at the hole in the floor. "Oh, my God..."
Hansel wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon. There's nothing we can do about it now."
Thoughts awhirl, she nodded and mechanically stepped with him to stride out of the house.